Team Free Will FTW
by Aesculap
Summary: Each single one of them might be flawed but at least they are sticking together and helping each other. This is what friends are for. Spoiler for 5x13; missing scene and coda


AN: Somehow this turned out a bit longer then intended and much less h/c heavy. Suddenly Sam was there and kept talking to Cas o_O.

* * *

When Castiel tries to open his eyes there is some kind of resistance. He tries again succeeding in blinking one eyed at his blurry surroundings. Dark dots. Swimming a bit more into focus as he manages to open his other eye, too. Brown. Dark brown and light brown and purple and pink and lavender. A mixture that makes not only his head hurt even more but he is sure if he tries to look even a second longer on the strange accumulation of colorful hearts he is going to trow up. The room is spinning, making the ugly ornaments dance and his head reel. Castiel lets his eyes fall close again and waits for the darkness to swallow him again, ease the numbing pain, the stabbing, burning, piercing, throbbing sensation of _injury _that fills his vessel and his Angelic body likewise.

~*~

When Castiel wakes up the second time there is someone outside the door.

"Hello? Still in there? Need somethin'?"

There is knocking. Probably soft and tentative but still it hurts. As does the voice.

"Hellooo?"

The troublesome human probably won't go away unless Castiel answers. He takes a deep breath and tries to make his voice sound strong. Firm. Commanding. What he manages is a hoarse croaking, a breathless mumbling. "I don't... require... assistance."

Castiel is not sure if the man outside really was able to understand his words but right now he has other issues. Neither breathing deeply nor speaking was a good idea. Nausea rises as does bile. He manages to roll on his side, head hanging over the edge of the bed and vomits dark olive blood mixed with fresh red. He tries to straighten up, roll back in a much more comfortable position but the retching starts again as soon as he lifts his head.

After his stomach has calmed down again he doesn't try to move for a long time. There is a waste basked underneath his face. He is sure Dean placed it there in case of...

~*~

The third time Castiel opens his eyes he is not sure what has woken him. It takes some time, his senses are dulled, he is weary and the vertigo threatens to turn his stomach again. But after a few minutes he is sure the presence of another Angel alerted him into consciousness. No. Neither is the Angel here nor is it Anna. It's his comrade Uriel.

Castiel's thoughts are racing. Why is he here? The Host is not allowed down on earth! It is too early! What is Anna doing?! She must have already changed this time line successfully. Otherwise Uriel's presence... Sharp pain pierces through his torso. Castiel tries to take a shaky breath, calm his nerves. The Winchesters need him. Although they have his sword to fight against one Angel is dangerous. To stand against two is suicide.

Carefully, excruciatingly slow Castiel props himself up on his elbow. The room is still ugly. He blinks and tries to focus on something else than dancing hearts. The floor is covered with a plush carpet in vanilla. It is a soft and soothing color. Castiel decides he likes vanilla. He looks at it instead. It takes the Angel precious minutes to entirely sit up. He sways a bit but as soon as he clutches the headboard with one hand he feels much more steady. The pain is still there threatening to overwhelm him again. He knows pain. He is a soldier after all. He has been hurt in battle before. But this time it is different. He is not able to heal himself, mend his Grace. The opposite is happening, his injured Grace is bleeding into this body, hurting his vessel. He knows his lungs are filled with blood. Castiel coughs again, tries to get rid of the liquid but he only spits red dots onto his surroundings. The blood is still inside. Not only in his lungs he remembers as his gaze settles on the basked next to his feet.

Although Castiel does not know where the Winchesters are he knows he just has to travel to Uriel and Anna. He is still able to sense both of them. He closes his eyes, concentrates on the location and... _Michael_! Michael is here! Michael is at the exact same spot as Anna is! Castiel gasps. Fresh pain makes his eyes water and his surroundings spin anew. _Michael_. If he finds Castiel he is going to die. There is no way he would be able to escape another Angel in his injured and weakened state – much less an Archangel. But still his friends need him.

Again he tries to carefully gather his thoughts enough to travel. Anna! She... she is _dead_! Castiel takes a shaky breath. And another. He knows he is hyperventilating. But this... Michael just killed Anna. Anna. She is dead. Some kind of remorse, sympathy and regret are filling his chest. They had been something akin to friends once. And although she had threatened to kill Sam he still had hoped they... No. Deep down inside he had known she would die here in 1978. Either he or Anna. Castiel feels dizzy again. If Michael killed her then... This implies so much. She is not working for heaven as he had wrongly assumed. Perhaps she is... _was_ working for Zachariah and Michael is against Zachariah and that would mean he could be... perhaps... maybe they could just talk to him, win him over... But what if not? What if he is here to kill the renegade Angels. Anna and himself? Then he has to flee...

Castiel blinks. He blinks again, trying to understand what has just happened. Michael is gone and he is still alive. But something is different. Something about this time line. He closes his eyes, stretches out his Angelic senses – now with Michael gone again he dares too. The changes he has been able to sense before... they are gone now. It is as it has been and as it should be. Mary and John Winchester are still alive. Dean and Sam are to be born – one sooner one later. Now he just has to return. Easy pie as Dean would say.

~*~

Sam is fading in and out of existence. He is just a few feet away then he is gone again and Castiel looks at hearts. They decide to dance again as he gathers his remaining strength for another try.

Sam looks up, catches a glimpse of him in the mirror. Dancing hearts have morphed into dancing dots. They are making him dizzy.

"Cas! Castiel!"

He feels warm and strong hands. Sam and Dean both are holding him up, preventing him from falling head first to the floor. The floor... it is nearing with alarming speed. A palm on his chest stops the movement. His palm is smaller. No. The palm that stopped him wasn't his. It was huge.

"I did it." He really did. To be honest he is... surprised. Pleasantly surprised, but still surprised. Although he doesn't want to he voices his thoughts. "I am very surprised." He looks at Dean, than at Sam. Huge Sam with the huge hands. His _friend_. He stopped his fall. He feels how a smile of gratitude forms on his lips as suddenly his vision fades to gray. He feels himself being dragged. And dropped. He bounces off something... soft...

~*~

After they have emptied the bottle of liquor without much further talk - both of the Winchesters too deeply lost in their own thoughts - Dean announces he is going to fetch them dinner. Sam doesn't object although that means he has to babysit the unconscious Angel - _Mr Comatose_. Great. He sighs and walks towards the second bed. They are so screwed. Everybody believes they are both going to say yes. Michael told Dean there is no such thing as free will. The thought is very depressing.

~*~

Castiel is still dizzy despite his lying position. His body bouncing off the mattress as his friends have lain his limp figure not all to carefully down has resulted in a rush of nausea and even stronger vertigo. He has hoped just lying unmoving for a few minutes, listening the the humans talk would help. It did not.

The Angel is still busy trying to just breathe without succumbing to the spinning sensation of his surroundings or throwing up as he hears Dean leaving. Dinner... No, he is not going to follow this thought. There is pressure inside each and every of his... no his _vessel's_ body parts. It is as if the fragile human body suddenly is too small to contain him entirely. As if the Angel is going to burst out of that mortal shell any second now. The feeling of pressure is mixed with pain, rising, becoming stronger, piecing through his true form, throbbing inside his host.

Castiel feels his wings trying to break free, parts of his self leaking out of the frail human body. He knows Sam is inside the same room, too near for him to lose control without hurting the man. He has to stay inside his vessel. He is not going to blind his friend. A painful shiver runs through his entire self, shaking the human body also as he fights harder for control, brutally shoves himself back inside his vessel despite the resulting spikes of pain.

~*~

Sam sits down on the second bed. He is tired. Emotionally. Physically. He has seen his beautiful mother, his young father. Revelations and confessions that left him numb and jumpy likewise. He just wants to sleep - preferably for a year or two - but he isn't sure he would be able to. Too much has happened, too many thoughts are running through his head.

He looks at the small tv, pondering whether he should try to distract himself with numb entertainment or better use the time and start bringing some resemblance of order to the chaos inside his mind. Somehow his gaze wanders over the limp body on the second bed. Castiel is trembling. His breath coming in short bursts as if in heavy pain.

"Cas?" Sam tentatively sits down next to the Angel on the hard mattress.

The answer is a breathy moan.

"Castiel...?" Sam puts his hand on the Angel's arm and feels cramped muscles underneath the quivering surface. The entire vessel is tense, each and every muscle locked up.

"I'm fine...," the Angel whispers hoarsely.

"Yeah, right. The last time you said that you were spitting blood just seconds later."

Right on clue Castiel coughs wetly but instead of a gust of blood only a few splatters strain the comforter he is lying on.

"See what I mean? You're far from 'fine'. Even by Winchester standards."

"Sorry..." The word is muttered so softly Sam nearly misses it.

"Nothing to be sorry of. We're both glad you made it back."

Castiel concentrates on just breathing without coughing or throwing up. The dizziness still hasn't receded, making even the bed under is backside moving in small circles. Only the sound of his labored breaths is filling the room for some time.

"Michael killed Anna." Sam doesn't know why he says it. Perhaps just to say something, to break the silence.

"I know."

"Dean told me. I haven't... Anna killed me."

Castiel's eyes snap open. Sam sees fear, worry, confusion. He knows Castiel feels deeply for his brother, considers Dean a friend but he has never thought the Angel would react like _that_, like he cared for him, too.

"You are... Michael?"

Sam answers with a firm nod.

Castiel exhales a shaky sigh. He looks relived. Sam frowns thinking about what the Angel's reaction implies.

"Uriel was there, too. I don't know what Anna told him but he nearly killed Dean before Michael... He... He _wore_ Dad."

Sam has never seen so much sympathy in Castiel's eyes.

"I am sorry, Sam."

"No, it's ok. You... You brought us there. We've already asked too much of you - hell, look at you! You are spitting blood, unable to stand without help, fainting. And all because of us..."

"I did not _faint_."

This is such a Dean thing to say Sam huffs in amusement. There is a small grin on his face.

"What I meant... I think we've never said thank you even once. Cas, seriously, I don't know where we would be now without your constant help. Thanks. From both of us."

Sam is not sure, its hard to be with pain shortly breaking through the Angel's facade again and again. He thinks there is a tiny smile on Castiel's face. He has never seen him doing that.

"Sam. You and Dean are my friends. Dean taught me that this...," he makes a weak gesture including everything around them. Or perhaps the Angel just means them? It's hard to say for sure with his movements erratic and hazy. "This is worth dying for. _You and your brother_ are worth dying for."

This is exactly how Sam has always pictured Angels. Not the lying unmoving on a bed, face dotted with dried blood - no, the willingly dying for the good cause. Devoted, self-sacrificing, full of love. Not like Zachariah and his lot. Not like Uriel. Not like Anna - at least not as she has been before Michael burned her Grace to dust.

~*~

When Dean returns Sam has switched on the TV. Castiel is asleep. Or meditating. Or unconscious - it's hard to say. He hasn't been responsive for at least ten minutes so Sam is pretty sure he is no longer awake. The smell of food fills the room only moments after Dean has closed the door. Sam inhales deeply, his stomach grumbles as the scent of burger, fries, and pizza fills his nose - time travel obviously makes hungry.

"How's Cas?" Dean asks while he pulls a burger out of the bag and unwraps it.

"Fine, I think. Sleeping or something now. He's been conscious and we talked a little." Sam opens the pizza box and closes it again. This stuff? Nothing he would eat. "Dean? Seriously? Pizza Hawaii?" Neither he nor Dean like it so his confusion is justified.

"For Cas," Dean answers his mouth already full with half chewed burger. "Figured if he wakes up he might wanna eat something."

Sam tries to hide his smile with a big gulp of coke. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Then a different thought strikes him. Each single one of them might be flawed but at least they are sticking together and helping each other. This is what friends are for. He raises his soda can and waits for Dean to do the same. "To Team Free Will," he toasts. "Team Free Will for the win," Dean answers. Perhaps their chance to win are like a snowball in hell. But come what may come they will give it a go. Together.


End file.
